


Catharsis

by freewillhurts



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst, Booth needs a hug, F/M, Fluff, I'm still mourning, Oral Sex, Probably just a bunch of drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-01-01 05:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12149970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freewillhurts/pseuds/freewillhurts
Summary: ca·thar·siskəˈTHärsəsnounthe process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished Bones and I'm _devastated_. 
> 
> I also noticed that there isn't nearly enough fics, so here we aaaaare \o/
> 
> This is very un-betaed and written at 1:30 am, so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Booth dropped his head back to lean against his chair, staring up at the blank ceiling of his office. He’d just closed a case, having arrested a girl of only 16 for capital murder. Her father was a police officer, and while he was a model citizen, he’d been abusing his wife and daughter at home. One day, the girl had had enough. Unfortunately for her, the body had been sent to the Jeffersonian.

 

Sighing softly, Booth glared at the pristine ceiling before looking back down at his desk. Normally, closing a case so quickly would put the man in a good mood, but this one was giving him a very hard time. The look of the girl’s face when he’d pulled out his cuffs… She wouldn’t be tried as an adult until her 18th birthday, but she would still be held in a cell with other child murderers with very limited visitation right for her mother.

 

The silence of the office was broken by his cellphone ringing, jolting him out of his replaying of the absolute worst arrest he’s had to do. God, his job sucked sometimes. Well, often.

 

“Booth.”

 

 _“Cher, I wanted to make sure you weren’t still where I left you. You home yet?”_  
  


“I’m just finishing up some paperwork, Caroline,” he sighed, leaning his elbow on his desk and scrubbing a hand over his face, “Thanks for your concern.”

 

 _“Mhmm. Seeley Booth, if I have to drag myself over to your damn office to get you out of there, I will_ not _be happy. You do not want me unhappy.”_

 

Booth groaned and lowered the phone from his ear to glare out the dark window. “Alright, I’m gone.”

 

_“That’s what I thought. Goodnight, Cher. Give your doctor my best.”_

The drive to Brennan’s apartment went by in a blur, Booth barely registering what he was doing as he pulled into his usual parking spot outside. Sitting there for a moment longer, he made an effort to push all thoughts of the case from his head. It didn’t really work, but at least he could say he tried.

 

As he walked into Brennan’s apartment, he took the lights being off as a sign that the woman in question was already in bed. Moving quietly, he removed his shoes and made for the kitchen. He found the box of frosted flakes Brennan bought for his sake, and he couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. He could still remember the way she wrinkled her nose when he’d ate them in front of her at his place.

 

“ _Those are absolutely horrible for your health.”_

_“Yeah, well, they’re great for my emotional health, Bones.”_

_“Cereal has no emotional benefits, Booth. If you need something for your mood, there are very good anti-depressants available these days.”_

Booth snorted at the memory, shaking the sugary flakes into a bowl, wincing at the noise. Everything seemed ten times louder at night.

 

“Booth?”

 

He looked up to see Brennan standing on the other side of the counter, looking rumpled and warm.

 

“Bones, sorry… I was just kind of hungry. Go on back to sleep, I promise not to be loud.” He shot her a smile before turning to the fridge to get milk. Booth felt arms slide around his waist, followed by Brennan’s cheek against his shoulder.

 

“It’s late.” Letting out a slow breath, he let the fridge door close as his eyes did the same.

 

“Papers. They’ve been piling up.” The hum he felt against his back let him know that she wasn’t convinced. He turned in her arms, pulling her against his chest and kissing the top of her head. Her sandalwood scented shampoo smelled made something in him tighten, and he swallowed hard.

 

“Booth.”

 

He pulled away to look down at her and, with one glance at the knowing look in her eyes, he grimaced and shook his head before crushing his lips to hers. She responded to his desperate kiss, pushing against him until he felt the fridge hit his back.

 

It didn’t take them long before they were both gasping for air, and Brennan opted for licking and biting a trail down Booth’s neck, loosening his tie and pulling open the buttons of his shirt. Booth tilted his head back, his breathing harsh, fingers flexing on her hips. “God, Bones…” he felt his voice break, still unsteady.

 

She looked up at him as she bit the skin near his right nipple, soothing the mark with her tongue and moving on, down his chest to his stomach, kneeling in front of him. As she passed her tongue over his navel, she undid his belt, pulling it from his pants and dropping it to the floor. Brennan looked up at him as she undid his pants, and Booth cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her soft skin. She gave him a small smirk, eyes flashing in her typically maddening way, and dragged her fingers over his boxer-covered bulge, pulling out a hiss from behind his teeth. “Be still.”

 

Brennan continued to tease him through his boxers, mouthing his straining erection, her hands holding his hips steady. The hand he’d held to her cheek migrated to the hair at the nape of her neck, his other hand tight in his own hair. He panted into his arm, garbling out a stream of “fuckBonespleaseGoddamnitfuckplease _fuck._ ”

 

When she finally pulled Booth’s boxer down, freeing his cock, he very nearly cried out in relief. Never had he been with a girl that could bring him this close this fast before. But Brennan excelled in getting under his skin and driving him to the edge, just like she did with everything.

 

His thighs had tremors running through them, and she placed feather light kisses on either one before turning her attention back to his erection, licking a stripe up from base to head, wrapping a hand around the shaft. Glancing up to check that Booth was still pressing his face into his straining bicep, Brennan took him into her mouth in one smooth move. He feared his legs would give out from under him as he felt her warmth around his cock, and he bit into the sleeve of his suit jacket.

 

Brennan was as efficient at giving head as she was at identifying cause of death, she knew this well, but hearing confirmation from Booth sobbing her nickname was always very nice. She moaned around him, her eyelids fluttering as she reached a hand down her own underwear to drag two fingers against her own wet heat.

 

“ _Fuck_ Bones, god fucking fuck--” Booth choked, hips bucking up at her. She took her hand off his shaft to push his hips back against the fridge, running the tip of her tongue over his slit, taking the shout that came in response and storing it away in her memory. Booth dropped his hand from his hair to smooth Brennan’s bangs away from her face, watching her work as he ground his teeth together. “W-wait, Bones, wait fuck shit, I’m-- _Bones.”_

She licked him clean and pulled his boxers and pants up, tucking him away gently. When Booth could open his eyes again, she was kissing his jaw lightly. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly and dropping his head into her shoulder, his breathing still ragged but not from any lingering sexual stimulation.

 

“ _16— “_

 

“I know.”

 

“Bones…”

 

“I know. It’s okay, I know.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Mm, Booth.”

“What?” 

“You know what,” Brennan laughed, pushing at his shoulder.

Booth looked up from her hip, where he was kissing her name into her skin. Skimming his nose up her stomach, he hovered over her, his forearms supporting his weight as he brushed his lips over hers. “I don’t, actually.”

He kissed her, and she threaded her fingers through his hair. As he licked at her lips, she opened herself for him, pulling him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist. She wanted to feel every part of him in every part of her. His skin to her skin, his bones to hers. 

Reluctantly, she turned her head to the side to break the kiss, letting out a shaking breath as he took it as an invitation to make love to her neck. “We, uh…” she breathed, scratching at his scalp and swallowing hard, “We have to go to work… A-a body…”

“I’m much more interested in your body, Bones,” he purred against her, catching her earlobe between his teeth. Brennan dug her fingers into his shoulder, pulling on his tighter despite her words. “Besides, it’ll still be there in an hour.”

“I--…” Booth silenced her with another disarming kiss, letting his hand glide down the length of her body, up her thigh and hook the crook of her knee, pulling their hips closer together.

“ _One hour._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

Brennan loved working with Booth. She loved solving murders and catching killers. She loved making a difference, loved getting justice. And while she won’t admit it, she loves that she’s learned so much from the job and from her partner. She learned just how not black-and-white the world was. She learned that love wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, that it didn’t mean you were weak. She’d once worried that it made her lose her edge, that it had made her Not As Good at her job as before. She knew how wrong she was now; how important feeling things was. She even learned that her fondness for Booth wasn’t a sin.

She learned that she loved him.

Not that she’d actually tell him, his ego was already large enough and needed no encouragement. Still, all of these things she loved.

However, there were days where she absolutely hated everything about their job. Not every case closed neatly or left her feeling satisfied. Some, quite a few actually, left her feeling hollow.

It was on these days she especially loved Booth.

“ _Fuck._ ” 

“That _is_ the idea,” she gasped, bracing one hand on the edge of the counter she was sitting on, tightening her fingers in Booth’s hair as she invaded his mouth with her tongue. His growl in response sent a spike of heat straight to her belly, and she arched against him to roll her hips against his straining erection.

Booth pulled her roughly to him, his hands going straight to her ass, and he backed up. She went along with his movements, allowing him to pick her up as she shifted her target to his neck, attacking the skin under his ear with fervor. 

Brennan was actually impressed that he managed to get them to his bedroom, even if they made a few stops at the walls on the way. 

“Not thinking about that Jason Dick anymore, are you?” He all but ripped the button of her pants off. Jealousy looked good on Seeley Booth.

“B— _Seeley_ ,” she gasped, partly for his benefit, as his hand found its way down her panties. Brennan knew exactly how much he liked when she called him by his first name. She’d discovered that fun bit of trivia during a case. She had noticed that many of Booth’s friends called him ‘Seeley,’ and decided to try it once during a car ride to the diner.

 

_“So, I’m thinking that it’s the girlfriend. Finding out your boyfriend has a harem can definitely spark some killer instincts. Jealousy is always a good motive.”_

_“I’m not so sure, Seeley. Mr. Armand’s friend seems as likely. He was in love with Layla—Why did you stop the car?”_

“You know very well his—ah—name is— _yes_ —Jason Richards… oh, _god, right there.”_ She threw her head back as he sucked at her clit, pumping his slightly curled fingers in and out of her, paying attention to the spot she’d indicated.

She cried out in protest when Booth stopped, licking his fingers clean. “I don’t give two shits about his name,” he undid his belt and suit pants in record time. This was what they did, when the case didn’t work out; when they wanted to punch a wall, scream at the sky and tear down the world. They directed their energy at each other and tore each other apart instead. When Booth had understood, when he had relented, she loved him for it.

 

_“Booth, please.”_

_He stood a few feet away, hands on his hips and his head hanging low. He wasn’t facing her, because he couldn’t see the tears that streaked her face. He couldn’t do that and deny her what she wanted._

_“Seeley, I need this,_ please _.”_

_“Fuck,” he whispered, because he knew that she had him. In a smooth move, he turned and walked the two steps to her, catching her face between his hands and kissed her._

 

“God, _fuck me_. Do it, Seeley, please.” She didn’t usually approve of his alpha male attitude, but right now it was exactly what she wanted, needed.

“Of course, baby,” he bit into her shoulder, sliding into her, stopping for only a shot second before bottoming out. Nails in his back pushed him to start pistoning his hips, fucking her exactly as she’d asked. “Fuck, Bones… God, you’re so tight…”

Hearing him say his god’s name in vain because of her sent a shiver up her back. Booth was always so rigid about his rules and his religion, so the fact that he threw that all aside for her. 

As she clenched around him, throwing back her head and calling out his name, she couldn’t help the tears that stung her eyes when she came down from her high. She felt him flop next to her on the bed, and his arm around her waist pulling her to his chest. Brennan buried her face into his next, sniffling and doing her best to stop herself from crying. “I’m sorry, Booth.”

“Shh, don’t worry about it, Bones,” she heard the slight tremor in his voice and knew that, as always, she wasn’t alone.


	4. Chapter 4

The slap of flesh hitting thick material sent a wave of satisfaction through Brennan. The pain she felt in her knuckles, elbows, knees and feet barely registered when she delivered her blows to the practice dummy. It had definitely been a long time since she’d practiced anything close to a martial art for longer than 15 minutes, and her body would remind her of this tomorrow.

 

For now, however, she couldn’t give two fucks about the physical pain she felt. She wanted to punch something, and, from past experiences, she needed to get that out in the gym. Last time she’d bottled that urge up, she broke a senator’s nose. Of course, he’d been asking for it, but that wasn’t the point.

 

She relished in the burn of her muscles as she drove her elbow into the faceless enemy’s face.

 

She pictured that it was the woman she _knew_ was raping and killing the victims. Small children, often little boys around the age of 5, shredded up in a wood chipper and mailed to the parents. There were 7 known victims, only 4 had been discovered. There was some kind of ransom involved, but it was just a cover, a sham. Whether it was paid or not, the children came back in pieces.

 

She pictured the enemy she was fighting was her father. That he’d come back and she could finally show him how much she didn’t need him.

 

She pictured that she was fighting Booth. They had argued earlier that week, and they still hadn’t made up. Most of their arguments were kept separate from work, but the squints and other agents were starting to notice the cold professional distance they kept when they spoke. This case had only worsened the situation. Booth was insistent that they wait, come up with some plan before going for the rapist. Brennan disagreed vehemently. She knew how good her partner was in the interrogation room, she knew that he was more than capable of breaking the woman. The fact that he was being so passive was driving her insane.

 

_“So-So we just let her go on? We give up?”_

_“I never said that, Bones! I’m not giving up, but I can’t drag her in with nothing to pull on her. Everything we have is circumstantial, and the moment she realizes we’re closing in she’ll bolt!”_

_“You’re being a coward.”_

_“A coward? This is_ my _job, Dr. Brennan. You may be an expert in your field, but you sure as hell aren't one in mine. Go look at your bones and find us something useful.”_

The memory of the venom in his words had her throwing her punch a little more viciously than she’d meant, and she ended up clipping her knuckles enough for blood to seep slowly. “Shit…”

 

Turning to the bench, she grabbed the tape she’d brought along, wrapping her hand carefully, flexing her hand to test range of motion. Putting the tape down, she looked up to see Booth standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

 

“You need to adjust your stance if you want to minimize damage like that.”

 

“I don’t need your advice. You can go,” Brennan turned back to her target and started drilling it with renewed fervor, the stiffness and disapproving glare from her partner adding gasoline to the already roaring bonfire inside her.

 

When she heard no response, she assumed that he’d left, until she felt his hand close around her wrist. “Bones.”

 

“Let. Go.” She gritted her teeth, not daring to look up at him. She knew exactly what she would see there. Not for the first time, she cursed her ability to read his face as easily as the bones on her table. He was a language that she’d learned quickly enough, but now she wished that she was as clueless with him as she was with everyone else.

 

She felt him tug her arm, shifting her center of balance and forcing her to adjust by turning to face him. Still she kept her eyes glue firmly to what was straight ahead of her, his chest in this case. “Look at me.”

 

She set her jaw, and resisted as he grabbed her jaw and made her look up. What she saw in his face completely disarmed her. The devastated look she saw in his eyes had her blinking in surprise for a few moments, and she almost forgot she was supposed to be fighting him.

 

“ _No_ , let _go_ of me.” She pushed her hands against his chest, shoving him as hard as she could, as hard as she allowed herself to. “Just _stop_. I came here to be alone.”

 

“You came here to blow off steam.” Glancing back up at him again, she saw the blank look he always slid into place when he was hurt and internally shrank at the knowledge that she had put it there. “So, go ahead. Blow it off. Gimme your best shot.”

 

Brennan rolled her eyes. “I’m not punching you, Booth.” She started unravelling the tape around her knuckles, resigned to the fact that she would have to leave to get away from him.

 

“What, you think I don’t know you want to get a few licks in?” She shot him an unimpressed glare. “Come on, I’ll let you a few free shots.”

 

Brennan snorted, throwing the tape to the side and turning to face him again, fuming. “I don’t want you to ‘let me’ have free shots. I’m perfectly capable of kicking your ass without your assistance, thank you.”

 

“So, then? I’m waiting, Xena.” He held out his arms on either side of him, his eyebrows raised. God, his face infuriated her. Why was he being such an ass? “Clearly, you’re an expert, so take down the FBI agent.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“No, really. You were ready to head out and be a vigilante this morning, so why not do us a favor and prove just how badass you are.”

 

“Booth, _shut up._ ”

 

“Where did your fire go? If this was how you were gonna take down that raping murderer, it really is a good thing I sto—“

 

Brennan flew at him, throwing a few punches, which he blocked, before feigning that she would step back and stepping closer instead, grabbing his arm and flipping Booth over onto his back, using her leg to trip him.

 

She followed him down, leaning on his chest with one knee and grabbing his wrists to pin the to the floor above his head. “I said… _stop._ ”

 

Brennan didn’t realize she was crying until she saw her tears fall onto his face. His face reflected her own shock, and they both stayed motionless for a few moments, breathing heavily.

 

“Bones…”

 

When he broke the silence, she pulled away, wiping her face and getting up. She sat on the bench next to her water bottle and the tape, taking her hair out of the high ponytail she had. “I’m going to go back to the lab, um… Maybe Angela will have enough to work with to make a reconstruction of the fifth victim.”

 

“Bones, wait.”

 

She looked up and saw that he hadn’t move from his spot on the floor, he’d only used his elbows to sit up a bit. “Temperance… I’m sorry, I just-”

 

 “Don’t be,” she interrupted as she stood up, water bottle and tape in hand, “You were right. Rushing into things without empirical evidence is folly.”

 

“Yeah, but-“

 

“No, Booth. You were right. I was wrong.”

 

“Damn it, Bones. Would you just _listen_ for once in your life??” At some point, while she’d been trying her hardest to keep him from talking and making this The Talk they had after every argument, Booth had gotten to his feet, and was now crowding her into the wall by the door she wanted to escape through. As she looked up at him with wide eyes, she watched as he hung his head and let out a tired breath. It was strange to see him this worked up. Sure, the man was naturally emotional, but this…

 

“You know I would do anything for you, _anything,_ ” he looked up at her, placing his hands on the wall, framing her head and effectively pinning her to the spot she stood on. She felt trapped by his gaze there, because she had no choice but to look into the devastating ocher brown of his eyes. “I will follow your hunches even if you barely have any proof, but damn it, Temperance. I can’t just let you run after every lead you think is there. I know you might think I’m being overly cautious, but this woman—if she really is the killer—could take you as her next victim just for prying too much.”

 

“I’m not her typical victim, so—“

 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re an obstacle. I won’t just—I can’t survive them getting you. Again.” The fire in him usually made her reciprocate, but at that moment it lit something completely different in her.

 

Wrapping her hand in his tie, Brennan closed the distance between them, catching his lips just as he opened them again to go on talking. Booth made a sound between a yelp and an exasperated groan—as if he’d been waiting for her to do this for a long time now—before quickly reciprocating the kiss, flattening his body against hers onto the wall, hands drifting to her hips, her waist, her legs. For her part, she curled her fingers around the nape of his neck and bit his lower lip, pulling a delicious moan from him.

 

As he sucked a mark into her neck and hitched her leg up to his hip, all the confusion and frustration clicked into place. Her name on his lips gave meaning to the world, and for a moment she understood everything. If a god or heaven existed, this was it. Booth prayed for a perfect afterlife, but this was all that Brennan wanted. “God,” she breathed as he pressed his thigh up between her legs, and decided that she was the praying type.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly just writing without looking things over lmao 
> 
> I'm really glad to see that some people are into it though, so! I just have A Lot Of Feelings about Bones. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you wanna request something, or send me a prompt or something!


	5. Chapter 5

“Have you noticed how weird Booth and Brennan have been recently?”

 

Hodgins looked up from his microscope, frowning at Angela. “What, you mean the over obvious politeness?”

 

Angela nodded, chewing her lip. “They only do that when they’re fighting.”

 

The confused look on Hodgins’ face cleared as he realized she was right. “Oh god, last time this happened, it dragged on for _months_. Damn their ability to stay professional.”

 

She sighed softly, looking over her shoulder at Brennan’s office. The woman in question was sitting at her desk, reading over squintern reports. Angela could see the dark circles under her friend’s eyes all the way from the platform, “Poor Bren… She’ll never admit it, but this stuff always eats at her worse than it does normal people.”

 

“Yeah, for a cold fish Doctor B. is pretty emotional.”

 

Hodgins laughed as he received a slap on the shoulder, “Hey! Love you, too,” he called after his wife’s retreating figure.

 

* * *

 

 

Booth tossed his keys in the air and caught them as he walked through the lab, winking to Cam as he made his way to Brennan’s office. “Bones! Where are we at with the victim’s name?”

 

Brennan looked up, eyes wide, and she cleared her throat as she glanced down at her papers. “Erm, we still haven’t got a name… Just a face. Angela is running it through her facial recognition software now.”

 

Booth halted at Brennan’s door, almost as if he remembered something when he saw her expression. “Oh, uh… right. I’ll just…go see her then.”

 

When he got no answer, he nodded once to himself, and turned on his heel. Brennan glanced up as he left, her lips pressed into a thin line and a hint of light coloring high in her cheeks.

 

Angela didn’t acknowledge Booth’s presence at all until her said her name three times. When she did look up, it was with a cold glare.

 

Booth narrowed his eyes, but didn’t comment. “I’m here to check if you’ve got a match for our victim.”

“If I had, I would have told Brennan.”

 

“O-kay,” the last syllable was drawn out as he frowned, confused by her attitude, “You got a problem with me again?”

 

“Why aren’t you and Brennan talking.” The question was asked in such an accusatory tone, Booth almost took it as an insult.

 

Running a hand through his hair and shoving the other in his pocket to fidget with his lighter, he glared. “We are talking.”

 

Angela snorted, “You guys are acting as if you don’t know each other. Not even! You actually flirted when you didn’t know each other…”

 

“Alright, you know what?” Booth held up a hand, “We’re done here. Call m--tell Bones when you get a match.”

 

“I know how to do my job, Booth. Don’t think you can get away with acting like _my_ boss.”

 

Booth stopped at the door and turned around, “What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

Angela rolled her eyes and let all her weight fall on one foot, tapping the other on the floor as she looked at him with a thoroughly unimpressed expression on her face. “Oh, please, don’t pretend you don’t know how Alpha Male you are. It’s so typical, I might actually laugh. Brennan might humor you, but I don’t really care about your ego.”

 

* * *

  

Brennan let out a soft sigh as she put another report in the “Accepted” pile and reached for one in the “To Read” pile. Her interns had been very busy this week with getting as many cases from Limbo solved as possible. It had become a bit of a competition when Wendell and Fisher started a bet. While she didn’t approve of their reason for motivation, Brennan couldn’t complain. With the rate that they were going, they’d get through the backlog in a few months.

 

“Doctor Brennan, you need to go stop them before they bring the place down!” Clark’s voice interrupted her reading, and she looked up, finally hearing it: shouting.

 

To be specific, Booth and Angela shouting.

 

“What’s going on?” She asked the intern as she got up and started hurrying to the source of the yelling.

 

“I have no idea, but they look murderous. Doctor Hodgins tried to intervene, but…” Brennan glanced over at Clark, who just shook his head and grimaced.

 

Arriving at Angela’s doorway, Brennan took in the scene before her. Angela and Booth were yelling at the top of their voices, and Hodgins seemed to be trying to simultaneously push Booth out and hold him back.

 

“It’s goddamn _textbook_ with you, Booth. No wonder Sweets has a field day with you, you’re an explosion just waiting to happen.”

 

Booth’s face blanched and he completely stopped struggling against Hodgins.

 

“You need to keep your shit together. Brennan has enough to deal with without you dumping your problems on her. She isn’t your fucking toy, to play with until you get bored.”

 

Booth gritted his teeth, and Brennan just stared, her eyes wide.

 

“Angela, I swear to _God,_ if you don’t stop—“

 

“Easy,” Hodgins finally spoke up, narrowing his eyes at Booth. Booth looked down at him, as if he just realized he was there, and shoved the man away.

 

“That’s enough.” She spoke quietly, but fortunately the room had gotten very, very quiet after Angela stopped talking. Suddenly, three sets of eyes were on her. “This…This is a professional institution, and if you cannot r-remain professional,” Brennan cleared her throat, hating the catch in her voice, “If you cannot remain professional, then you are all very welcome to leave. I won’t have you disrupting the work we are doing here.”

 

“Bones…” Her eyes flickered to Booth’s for a second before she turned and left.

  

* * *

 

 

The next few days in the lab passed with a very fragile peace. Everyone learned very quickly not to talk to Brennan about anything but their work after Angela tried three times.

 

“My words from earlier this week still stand, Ange. If you can’t stay professional when we’re working, you can leave.”

 

If Angela couldn’t get anything out of her, no one would.

 

* * *

 

 

“Bones.”

 

“This sternum has very strange striations on it.”

 

“Bones, come on…”

 

“I’ll have to ask Hodgins to swab for particulates, and I’ll ask Mr. Vaziri to see if he can match them to a weapon. Maybe a sawblade of some kind?”

 

“Bones, will you just look at me??” Booth pushed himself between her and the bone table, finally getting her to look up at him.

 

“I’m working, Booth. Murders do not solve themselves,” she pressed her lips into a line in annoyance. She tried to bypass him, but he grabbed her shoulders and turned them around, so that they switched places and he was pinning her against the table. Her hands came up to grab his shoulders for balance, and she glared. “Booth, I am serious. We don’t have time for this.”

 

“Shut up. Just shut up!” He was breathing hard, sliding his hands up to frame her face, holding her head in place so that she couldn’t look away. “Why are you doing this??”

 

“I don’t know what—“

 

“Oh, come on, Bones. Don’t give me that crap.” He grimaced, but was glad to see the color in her cheeks. He knew she wasn’t that good at acting. “You won’t look at me. You won’t talk to me. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry it upset you, but I’m not sorry I said it.”

 

“Booth…”

“No, I’m not. You know how I feel about you, so why would I bother lying about this?”

 

Brennan looked down, at his shoulder, anywhere but his eyes. She was very sure she wouldn’t be able to take the raw honesty in his eyes. “I’m not upset.”

 

“I—what?”

 

She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “I’m not upset you called me 'baby'. I liked it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Angela turned from her screen to look across the hall into the bone room. When she saw the hold Booth had Brennan in, she got ready to jump at him.

 

She froze when she saw their expressions.

 

He looked desperate, and she was… blushing?

 

Angela has never seen Brennan blush. Not once.

 

And, just like that, Booth surged forward to kiss Brennan. And she let him.

 

“Woah…” Angela watched for a second more, then turned away with a small smile. Her happiness for her friend didn’t last though.

 

“I’m going to have to say sorry.”

 

Angela Montenegro _hated_ apologizing, especially to macho men.

 

* * *

 

 

Booth lifted Brennan, hands on her ass, and dropped her on the edge of the table, mouth still fused to hers. His hands slid down her legs, chasing the hem of her dress. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her entire body to his, tilting her head as Booth’s lips went searching for the most sensitive spot on her neck. “B-Booth, wait… wait…”

 

“Mm.”

 

“Puh… Please, Booth. Stop.” She gave his shoulder a light shove, and he lifted his head to look up at her, his pupils blown wide enough to make his brown eyes black.

 

“What?”

 

“We’re in the bone room.” Booth didn’t seem to understand and Brennan could help the small laugh that escaped her. “We’re stopping before we lose our jobs.”

 

“Right, right…” Booth rested his forehead on her shoulder, letting his shoulders drop as he let out a long breath, “Right.”

 

Brennan hummed and carded a hand through his hair, turning her head to press her lips to his temple. “Don’t sound so disappointed. I didn’t say we couldn’t relocate to somewhere more appropriate, did I?”

 

“What about your super important murder that won’t solve itself?” His words were muffled, but she could feel his smile against her skin.

 

“Well,” she murmured, hooking her heels behind his thighs to push their hips together, “I’m sure Mr. Vaziri can manage for a day without me.”

 

Booth growled into her neck, tempted to just resume where they had stopped right there, but he straightened up instead to look her seriously in the eyes. “I can’t move.”

 

Brennan rolled her eyes and chuckled. “The less melodramatics, the faster we’re in the car and the faster you have me pinned against a wall.”

 

He groaned, closing his eyes. “Bones… I have a raging fucking boner right now, _I cannot move._ ”

 

Realization finally dawned on her and she glanced down, her mouth forming a silent “Oooooh”. She grinned at him, which earned her a half-hearted glare. “Alright, well, thankfully for you I have a box I need carried.” She pointed to a cardboard box of files on the floor near the end of the table. “I’m not done going through the reports the interns have written up. They are quite proficient, you know, with the right moti— “

 

Her words were cut off by a hungry kiss. “Five minutes, Bones. I’ll be in the car.” And with that, he disappeared with the box, practically running out of the door, albeit a waddling run.

 

Brennan grinned as she watched him go, and met Angela’s eyes from across the corridor. After a moment, she saw her friend mouth the word with a smirk.

 

“Professional.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is from a prompt
> 
> 'i’m in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck’ au
> 
> from theappleppielifestyle's tumblr!

Seeley sat on the washer that currently had all his clothes in it, except for the pair of boxers he was wearing. How he’d gotten to this point was a bit fuzzy, but he knew it started with a midterm party at someone’s boyfriend’s best friend’s house. Typically, anyone studying to be FBI wouldn’t go and get blackout drunk, but after their midsession examinations were over, it was all too easy for the whole class to get swept into a celebration. The many hours of studying finally being over had that effect on people. After that, the night was a blur of loud music and cheap beer. He woke up that afternoon with a splitting headache and a girl yelling at him very loudly while hitting him with a pool noodle. Something about sleeping with her girlfriend…

 

The washer under him jerked as it switched to the rinse cycle, pulling him from his reverie. It was then that he realized the was a woman filling the washer next to his. It took him a moment to realize that the clothes she was loading in were absolutely covered in blood.

 

Seeley’s mouth popped open as he stared. Of course, that was when the woman looked up and saw his very obvious expression.

 

“Are you asphyxiating?” He looked at her, eyes still wide, as she shut the washing machine and started it.

 

“What?” Seeley didn’t know someone could look so thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“I said, are you asph—are you choking?” She turned to face him, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised. “You don’t seem to be, as you’re talking and aren’t convulsing or turning red and blue.”

 

“I—No, I’m not _choking_ ,” Booth huffed, copying her and crossing his arms, feeling very exposed in his tighty-whities. “I am, however, wondering what the _fuck_ you’re doing with clothes covered in blood. You murder someone?” He hoped she did, he would be revered as the first one of his class to catch a murderer.

 

The look she gave him made him wonder if spontaneous disappearing was possible. “No, I haven’t killed anyone. If I had, I certainly wouldn’t bring the clothes I wore to the laundromat, and then confess to a… policeman’s son?”

 

Seeley scowled at her. “Quantico. I’m going to be FBI.” He rolled his eyes when she snorted, jumping up onto her washer to sit next to him. “And it’s barber’s son, actually.”

 

She tilted her head as she eyed him, and he had the distinct impression that he was being examined like some science experiment. “You do have nice hair.”

 

“Uh, thanks.” He looked down at his knees, chewing his lip as silence stretched between them.

 

“Temperance Brennan.”

 

He looked up with a frown. “What?”

 

“You say that a lot,” she sighed, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, “My name is Temperance Brennan.”

 

“Oh,” he grinned sheepishly, “Right, uh. I’m Seeley. Booth.” He scratched the back of his neck, hooking his fingers around his nape. “That’s an original name, Temperance.”

 

“As original as Seeley, I suppose.”

 

“One in a million.” He grinned widely, then faltered at her confused expression. “What?”

 

“I disagree, I believe the chances of someone else having your name would be a much smaller number.”

 

“Uh, it’s just a saying,” he smiled, confused but intrigued as hell. “So, why the bloody clothes then?”

 

“I am doing my internship with a rather unfortunate anthropologist. Doctor McGregor believes in helping with murder cases, which include bodies that are a lot fresher than I was expecting to work with.” Temperance let out a short, irritated sigh out of her nostrils, “I was not prepared for the level of gore.”

 

Seeley’s eyes widened in excitement. “Oh, man, you’ve gotta take me to work with you! That sounds freaking fantastic…”

 

She grimaced, and shook her head. “It is not fantastic. Quite the opposite in fact. I prefer working with bones.”

 

“Can’t always get what we want, Bones,” he sing-songed.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“So, will you have pity on this poor FBI agent in training, Doctor Brennan?” He gave her his best smile, and she raised her eyebrows and shrugged one shoulder.

 

“I don’t see why not, provided you tell me why you are half-naked.”

 

“Story for when we’re better friends, Bones.”

 

“ _Don’t call me that._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

“Could you stop shaking the bed so much?” Brennan whispered into the dark, turning onto her back to glare at the barely visible ceiling. When she got no reply, she looked over at Booth, who was sprawled under the covers next to her. They were undercover as Roxy and Tony, which meant they were supposed to sleep in the same bed, but that only worked if they were actually sleeping.

 

He had a frown on his face and sweat on his brow, but his eyes were closed. She sat up, cross-legged, facing him. “Booth?”

 

He only twitched, grimacing. He was having a nightmare, it seemed, and Brennan wasn’t sure if she should wake him up. As he started to get more worked up, she bit her lip and leaned over to poke him lightly. “Wake up, you’re dreaming.”

 

Booth still didn’t respond, so she went to grab his shoulder to shake him, only to get stopped as his own hand closed around her wrist. Glancing up at his face, she saw his wild eyes, right before he surged at her, pinning her down to the bed.

 

“Booth! Wake up, you’re safe, you’re safe…” She stared up at him with wide eyes, trying not to fight against him despite her instincts screaming that she needed to get out of there.

 

It took him a few moments of heavy breathing and staring at her before he spoke. “Bones.” Immediately, he jumped off of her, as if touching her burned his skin. He nearly fell off the bed getting away, and he swore. “I’m so sorry _shit_ I’m sorry, Bones.”

 

Even before she could tell him that it was fine, that she understood, he was in the bathroom.

 

When she woke up the next morning, she found him sleeping on the floor.

  

* * *

 

 

With a serial killer on the loose and coming for them, Booth and Brennan decided the wisest course of action was to stick together at night.

 

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall, I’ll go make the bed for you.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Brennan turned to look at him, frowning in confusion. “I’m not sleeping in the room down the hall so that this asshole has an easier time of sneaking in to kill you, Bones.”

 

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll be perfectly fine with you a room away, Booth. Besides, he might come for you, for all we know.”

 

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, and by the end of the night they were laying side by side, looking up at the same ceiling.

 

It didn’t take very long for Booth to doze off, he’d been on edge since they’d figured out the killer’s goal. Brennan, however, was jerked awake every time she heard a noise in the apartment. It then followed that she was woken up by Booth muttering in his sleep as he thrashed. She turned onto her side to face his back, and watched his shoulders tense, trying to figure out what could be bothering him, even after all this time…

 

_“It’s dangerous to wake a sleepwalker, Bren. That’s a fact.”_

_“Why would it be dangerous, Ange? It seems that it would be more dangerous to let the person go on and walk into traffic or fall down a flight of stairs.”_

_“Trust me on this, you never wake a sleepwalker.”_

Booth wasn’t sleepwalking, but for some reason she couldn’t help but think back on that conversation with Angela. Last time she’d woken Booth up, he’d lashed out, and Brennan wasn’t eager to experience that again. She didn’t want him to feel that guilt again, either. For weeks, she tried convincing him she wasn’t mad, but he kept his distance all the same.

 

Pursing her lips, she scooched up the bed so that she was sitting against the head board and her leg was pressed against his back. She held steady against his pushing against her thigh, and reached over cautiously, brushing her finger tips over his forehead beaded with sweat. “Breathe.” She murmured quietly as she pushed his hair out of his face. It had grown out a bit, reminding her of his haircut from when they first met. “It’s alright, you’re safe. Breathe.”

 

_“Men act all macho, but everyone needs a little comfort every now and then.”_

_“I don’t know what to do for him... He won’t let me talk to him about it.”_

_“Just be there, Sweetie. A little TLC will do wonders for the G-Man.”_

_“I don’t understand what that is.”_

Brennan went on speaking in a quiet tone, stroking his hair. She realized she had closed her eyes when she felt him shift against her, turning to face her and drape an arm over her legs. She looked down, unsure of what to make of the situation. After a few seconds, she let her hand rest on his shoulder, where she let her fingers draw patterns into his skin. She was glad that he’d stopped fidgeting, and, when she opened her eyes again, it was morning and he was snoring softly against her hip.

 

* * *

 

 

Brennan groaned softly as she heard loud knocking at her door. Rubbing a hand over her face, she unfolded herself from her spot on her armchair, putting the book she’d been reading—more like sleeping on—aside and went to get the door.

 

“Booth? It’s three in the morn—“

 

“Hey, Bones… Uh, listen, I was wondering if… maybe I could—uh,” Booth stood there, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders tensed, eyes glued to the floor. “You know what, forget it. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

 

As he turned to leave, Brennan caught his sleeve and pulled him into her apartment. “I was just doing some late-night reading.” She went over to the armchair to put her book away, and turned to him again. “I was just going to head to bed, if you want to lie down with me?”

 

The look Booth gave her confirmed her suspicion, and she just smiled and led the way. “You left your sweatpants here last time, I washed them and put them in the top drawer.” She pointed at her dresser as she entered her room and got into her bed, closing the light and getting comfortable as he got changed.

 

She felt the bed dip as he got in, and when she felt him shift close to her, she turned towards him and grabbed his hand, yawning softly. “Thoughts too loud again?”

 

_“It’s nothing, Bones. I’m just thinking too loud. Keeps me up, I guess.”_

_“Thoughts don’t make any sound, Booth. What you’re saying is impossible.”_

_“It’s not—It’s a figure of speech, Bones. Just means that I’m thinking too much, it’s keeping me from sleeping. Don’t you ever have a hard time sleeping when something’s on your mind?”_

Booth just sighed and inched closer, tightening his hand around hers. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

 

They had been doing this for months. Booth and Brennan would part ways for the day, saying the usual “see you tomorrow”, leaving in their separate cars. Every night at around 1 AM, Booth would be at Brennan’s door, and they would pretend that it wasn’t something that happened every day. They pretended that Booth didn’t have a drawer of his own, a toothbrush of his own, a space of his own at Brennan’s apartment.

 

Every night, they would fight Booth’s nightmares like they fought their perps. Brennan knew the panic that Booth felt, and she never had to ask. She knew because she lived through it.

 

It had been months since she’d had a nightmare of her own.

 

In her mind, china broke and darkness swallowed her up, pressing up against her until she couldn’t breathe. She pounded against the walls, choking on the black emptiness, on dirt. Hodgins screamed in pain, she scrawled a shaky letter to her partner.

 

She sat up in her bed, drenched in sweat and choking on a cross between a sob and a scream. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she stared into the darkness, and tried to breathe. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t catch her breath, she couldn’t—

 

“Bones?” _Fuck._ Brennan couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her, and she scrambled to untangle herself from the sheets, almost falling out of the bed like Booth had all those months ago. She was stumbling to her bathroom, not hearing Booth’s words behind her, and she caught herself against the counter, in front of the sink. Ignoring the sharp pain as her hip struck the corner of the corner, she stared down at the marble, trying to _breathe_.

 

“Bones! What is it, talk to me…” He was behind her, afraid to touch her. When she waved a hand at the light switch, he flicked it on, squinting against the brightness. “Look at me.”

 

Brennan stayed frozen, shaking, for a moment longer before turning and falling against Booth. His arms came up around her instantly, and he held her tightly, whispering to her as she had. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Booth… I couldn’t help it, I’m _sorry_.”

 

“Don’t you worry about it. Thoughts get loud sometimes.” 


	8. Chapter 8

The niggling suspicion in the back of her mind came from one of their arguments; an argument which had gotten quite animated, one could say. When Booth wanted to, he pushed all the right buttons to drive her insane, which had lead to her shoving him into a wall one night. Of course, she’d immediately apologized afterwards, but that look in his eye hinted at something more than his anger and surprise.

 

He left right after muttering a gruff, “It’s fine. See you tomorrow,” and while he’d seemingly forgotten about the whole affair, appearing the next day with coffee and his usual goofy grin, Brennan couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d seen.

 

Now that they’d been together for a few weeks, she decided to test her theory out. Every once in a while, when they would start to get into a heated discussion, she’d crowd his space and watch as his pupils would dilate and his breathing would hitch ever so slightly.

 

It was Friday, and Booth had insisted that they go out and do something “bestselling novelist worthy,” which apparently meant an overpriced restaurant. It was the kind of place that required formal wear, which suited Brennan just fine, but left Booth with a small bit of dread. He hated monkey suits.

 

_“You wear a suit to work every day, Booth?”_

_“Yeah, but it’s for work. Different tie, different cut. Those penguin suits pinch in all the wrong places.”_

_“I disagree. I think they define all your best features.”_

 She left the lab a bit earlier than usual—with the help of Angela—so that she could go home and get ready, having picked out a black dress that resembled the one she wore as Roxy in Las Vegas, though it didn’t have quite such a low cut to show off cleavage. Coupled with a pair of strappy heels and silver dangling earrings, she felt satisfied with her reflection. It wasn’t long after that she got a text from Booth saying that he was downstairs with his car.

 

He didn’t see her right as she got out of her building, being focused on finishing up a phone call to Sweets.

 

“—and I’m not going to deal with you ranting about soccer for a whole night again. No, Sweets, it’s not happ—…” He finally looked up at her, and Brennan couldn’t help but smirk a little bit when she saw his stunned expression “—uh, I’ve got to go. My date’s here.”

 

With that, he hung up on the psychologist’s protests, his face splitting into a wide grin. “I—wow, Bones, you look great.”

 

“I could say the same for you.” He was looking particularly handsome in his traditional suit. He’d let her get him a bespoke suit for his birthday, provided that she promise not to buy him anything for Christmas, and she was very grateful in that moment.

 

He grimaced as he stepped closer to her, placing a hand on her lower back as walked her to the car. “John and the boys don’t have room to breathe.”

 

“What?” She frowned as she got into the car, watching him in confusion until he got behind the wheel. “Oh! You’re referring to your genitalia. I didn’t know you had named them.”

 

Booth huffed out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s not go down that road.” He leaned over to kiss her as she frowned again, more confused than before. “Alright! Let’s get this fancy food.”

 

Dinner was absolutely delicious, and Booth’s face as he ate his beef wellington was worth all the money in Brennan’s accounts. Though she kept her face carefully under control, more than once during their evening at the restaurant she felt an aching fondness for the man across from her. It hurt terribly, and she found that she liked it. _So, I’ve become a masochist,_ she mused as she watched Booth talk animatedly about Parker’s science project. A man’s pride for his progeny was an attractive quality in Seeley.

 

Her fondness was paired with another feeling that was a little more difficult to manage, and only served to fuel it. By the end of their meal and desert, Brennan would blame her blush on the wine, even as she crossed her legs and pressed them together tightly.

 

“Booth.”

 

He looked up, smiling, clueless, until he saw her expression. His smile dropped as his mouth popped open in surprise, and he proceeded to swallow convulsively. “Right.”

 

The waiter was signalled, the bill was payed, and they were out the door. When they reached the car, Brennan was glued to Booth as he tried to unlock the door with shaking hands, her lips on his neck. Opening her eyes slightly to look at him in the reflection on the window, she decided now was the time to begin her final experiment.

 

“Bon—”He let out a yelp when she pushed his shoulder to turn him around and shove him against the car and looked up at her with wide eyes. She searched his eyes, and smirked when she saw his pupillary response, heard his breath come faster.

 

“I knew it,” she breathed into his ear as she pressed her weight against him, dragging her hands down his chest. She felt his hands on her hips tighten and the roll of his hips in response.

 

“I don’t—ah—I don’t understand…” He had his face buried in her neck as he clutched onto her when she ground their hips together, drawing a groan from him. She reached behind her to pull his hands off of her and backed off, leaving him gasping and holding the car for support.

 

“You like power play,” she let her gaze range over him, taking in his appearance. Yes, Booth did look good in “monkey suits”. He looked even better with them looking rumpled beyond hope.

 

“I—What?” His blush would have been cute if Brennan wasn’t fighting for control with her libido.

 

She made her way to the passenger’s side, smiling at him before getting in. “Get us home, Booth.”

 

He nodded once, still reeling but more than happy to comply. As he sat, Booth cursed and shifted in his seat, grimacing.

 

“Are you alright?” He looked over at her, his cheeks reddening further. He muttered something about ‘tight penguin pants’ before starting the car. When they came up to a red light, Brennan undid her belt and clambered over to Booth, swinging her leg over him to straddle his lap and immediately went to work on his neck, prompting a “Bones, what the fu—shit—I’m _driving_.”

 

“Pay attention, Seeley,” she hummed, nipping his earlobe and running her tongue over the shell of his ear. Booth shivered under her, then shifted into drive when he heard a honk behind him.

 

As she undid the first few buttons of his shirt—keeping his tie in place, right where it would stay as long as possible if she had any say in the matter—and sucked a mark into his collarbone, Booth groaned. “You’re going to kill me,” Brennan could swear she heard Booth _whine_ , which was very close to begging. _Good, nearly there._

 

She only answered him by rolling her hips against him, pressing down on his erection. She moaned along with him this time as the material of his zipper gave her a hint of the friction she’d been desperate for since they’d started eating. “ _Get us home.”_

 

“Yes,” he choked, and wrapped one arm securely around her waist, partly to pull her closer and partly to hold her steady as he floored it, shooting down the streets. Brennan couldn’t help but laugh against his skin, looking over her shoulder for a moment before going back to devoting her full attention to a very specific spot on his neck behind his ear.

 

They were pulling into the underground parking of her apartment as she shimmied her bra off, throwing it somewhere in the back of the car. She had been essentially dry humping Booth for the last few lights like a horny teenager, but she really didn’t care, not when it meant she could hear the string of curses tumbling from Booth’s lips. Not when it meant she could be closer, that she could have more of him.

 

As soon as Booth parked the car, using two spaces because he knew if he tried to do it properly he’d leave a scratch on someone’s paint job, Brennan was off his lap and out of the car, running off to the elevator. “Ah!—Fuck, Bones!”

 

She only laughed and left him to make his own way. She did wait in the elevator, holding the doors for the disheveled FBI agent. When he finally stumbled in after her, she let go of the “hold open” button and wrapped her hand in his tie and pulled hard. Booth almost fell forward as he followed her movement, catching himself against the wall of the elevator, his hands on either side of her head. “Christ, Bones…”

 

She leaned her head back, looking at him through her lashes. “Kiss me.” Her hand tightened in his tie and he surged forward, lifting her leg to his thigh to encourage her to jump up. Wrapping her legs around his waist, her head hit the wall as he targeted her neck. “F-fuck, _yes_ ,” she hissed, her hand fisted in his hair, his own hands sliding up her thighs under her dress.

 

The moment the elevator _dinged_ for their floor, she pushed him away and slid to the floor, her legs shaking, taking only a moment to gather herself and flash grin at him before she was off again, practically running to her apartment. She heard Booth swear behind her and call her name, and she quickly went searching for her key in her purse, hoping to get inside before he could catch up. Booth was quick, but she did manage to unlock the door before his hands were pulling at her hips, and they both fell into the apartment together, landing on the floor.

 

It took all of her willpower to push him off and stop him from taking her right then and there. “Up. Get up.” She put steel in her voice that she usually had when they were arguing, and instantly Booth pushed himself up enough to look down at her, searching her face for some sign of anger.

 

“What?”

 

“I said,” she stared back, keeping her face blank, “Get up, Seeley.”

 

He blinked, hesitating for a second, and she could practically hear his thoughts as he tried to figure out what had happened. He got up and held out a hand to help her up as well, which she took. She brushed herself off, feigning a calm demeanor despite her shaking hands. “Now,” she took a breath, reminding herself why she was doing this, “I want you to go into the bed room and get naked. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

The look of utter confusion and worry in his face was almost funny, and she granted him mercy. Dropping her cool mask, she stepped closer and trailed soft kisses up his jaw, dragging her hand down his stomach and cupping his erection. His sharp intake of breath had her backing off to raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you to do something?”

 

It seemed to finally dawn on him what she was doing, and he grinned, letting his hungry gaze trail down her figure once before he made his way to the bedroom, whispering a “yes, ma’am,” as he passed her.

 

When she joined in him the room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, waiting. He’d become impatient at some point, because when she entered, he’d been stroking himself, and didn’t stop as she came in, only looked up at her.

 

“Did you buy that just for me, Temperance?” Brennan smiled slowly, closing the distance between them.

 

_“I’m not sure, Ange, this seems a bit gaudy…”_

_“Trust me, sweetie, he’s gonna love it. Especially if you do what you plan on doing.”_

_“In black?”_

_“Yes. Definitely in black.”_

She was wearing over-priced lingerie, fancy bra with matching underwear and thigh-high stockings, connected with little buckles. As she got closer, Booth let go of himself in favor for reaching for her, but she stopped him before she could touch her. “You’re going to lie back.”

 

“Am I?” Brennan saw the challenge in his eyes, his smirk, and the raised her eyebrows.

 

“If you want this to go on, you’ll go sit with your back against the headboard, yes.” The threat of leaving this there was enough for the man to scoot back it seemed, as he did as she said, puffing out a sigh of exasperation.

 

“Alright, you got me here, now what?”

 

Brennan put a finger to her lips and he grinned, watching her go to the dresser and pull out a pair of handcuffs.

 

Booth sat up, eyeing the cuffs. “Are those mine?”

 

She just shrugged, smirking lightly and walking over. “You should keep track of these a little better, Booth. It was distressingly easy to _borrow_ them.”

 

Booth snorted and leaned back as she crawled over to him. “So, you gonna cuff me, Special Agent Brennan? I have to say, I’m really liking the changes the Bureau made to the uniform,” he took advantage of the moment as she took both his wrists to cuff them to the bar of the headboard above his head to appreciate the view.

 

Sitting back on her heels, she took a moment to make sure he was alright. “Not too uncomfortable?”

 

The shift of clear hunger to soft love in his face made her heart hurt. “Yeah, Bones, I’m good. Do your thing.”

 

She flashed him a wide grin and straddled him, leaning over to kiss him properly. “I think the rules are clear,” she mumbled against his lips, “No touching.”

 

Booth let out a sigh, leaning forward to try to get more of _her_ , “Couldn’t if I tried, baby.” She chuckled and took his jaw in one hand, turning his head to the side and working her way down his neck. She stopped at his collarbone and licked a long stripe up to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth and grinning as he turned his head to chase her lips.

 

Going back to his chest, she dragged her hands down his skin, and leaned over to trail wet kisses down to one nipple. There, she focused her attention, biting the small nub lightly then soothing it with her tongue. Booth squirmed under her, his breath coming out in short pants as he strained against the cuffs. “Fuck, this is going to be harder than I thought,” he huffed out in a breathy laugh.

 

Brennan glanced up and saw the raw _want_ in his eyes that bordered on desperation. “Show some _temperance_ , Seeley,” she hummed against his skin, continuing her way down his abdomen, letting her tongue dib into his bellybutton as she went by, her hands pressing down on his hips to prevent him from moving. Settling on her heels between his legs, she let her gaze travel over up his body. Stopping at his face once more, she took him in, flushed and panting. He was heart crushingly beautiful.

 

“Like what you see?” He flashed her a half-hearted smirk, then let his head fall back against the headboard, watching her through half-lidded eyes.

 

“Hmm,” she tapped her chin while leaning forward on her hands and knees with her other hand, and leaned over to lick the tip of his cock, “I think so.”

 

Booth made a choked sound and Brennan had to put her hands back on his hips to stop him from bucking. “Fuck, Bones, don’t tease…”

 

She blinked up at him, fixing her features into an expression of innocent worry. “Should I stop? Are you in pain?”

 

“No, no, _shit…_ ” He turned his face into his arm as she closed her hand around his length and starting stroking him slowly, twisting her hand a bit as she came up to his head. She continued this slow rhythm, watching his face the whole time.

 

“Ah, fuck—T-Te…— _fuck,_ please, I’m going…” Brennan tilted her head, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, “S-Stop, I’m not gonna last.”

 

She took her hand off of him, running it up his stomach, feeling his muscles still spasming under her fingers. She climbed up so that she could kiss him softly, tracing his cheek with her thumb.

 

“You’re being very sweet. I don’t think that’s the sentiment you’re going for here…” Booth murmured as she pressed kisses into every bit of skin available to her.

 

“I can’t help it,” she sighed against his skin, looking up at him and she almost couldn’t take the look he gave her. She’d never known that she could feel so _full_ just by looking at someone. “I was going to draw this out, you know. But you just had to be you.”

 

Booth let out a surprised laugh, closing his eyes. “So, it’s my fault you have too much heart to torture me?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, trailing her fingers over his chest.

 

Booth opened one eye and bit his lip, “You aren’t actually going to stop, are you? Not that I don’t appreciate the love, but I’m kind of standing at attention here…”

 

Brennan looked over her shoulder at his erection, letting out a soft, “oh!” She smiled sheepishly at him, kissing him once in apology before shimmying down and rolling her hips against his, gasping with him.

 

She continued the rhythm, letting her warm core slip over him, coating him in her wetness. She kept her eyes locked on his, analyzing the heavy drop of his eyes lids and his open mouth as he panted and pulled against his restraints. “C’mon, Bones… Fuck—I don’t wanna cum like this.”

 

She leaned forwards to bite a mark into his shoulder, gyrating her hips against him until she felt him stiffening under her. The moment this happened, she stopped, hearing his moan of protest. “ _Fuck._ ”

 

“I know,” she panted, pulling away to smile kindly at him, cupping his cheek and stroking his skin with her thumb. It was incredibly difficult to stop, but the desperation in his eyes, every curse and pleading noise he made was surprisingly arousing.

 

Booth writhed under her, trying to get some relief himself, but she tightened her hips around him to stop the movement, shaking her head while smiling. “What do you want, huh? Tell me, I’ll give it to you.”

 

Brennan laughed, letting a hand trail down her own body so she could slip her fingers under her panties, to stroke against her clit. “I don’t think you’ll be doing very much with your hands restrained, Booth.” His eyes tracked her hand, and he let out a small moan—Brennan rather thought it sounded like a whine—as he jerked at his cuffs.

 

“ _Please._ ”

 

“Please what?” His glare was almost effective. Almost.

 

“Just fucking— _Please fuck me._ ” Brennan’s laugh was much breathier, her flushed cheeks flaming. Reaching between them, she lined him up with her entrance—pushing her underwear to the side—and sank down on him, her mouth dropping open as she kept her eyes on his face. He was unable to look away from where his cock was disappearing in her, and when he did look up at her face, his head dropped back against the headboard.

 

They were already so wound up, that it only took a few undulations from Brennan’s part to push Booth straight off the edge into a delirious climax. She quickened her movements against him, chasing her own release, and fell against him as she clenched against him, crying out loudly.

 

It was difficult to get off of him and get the key to his cuffs from the dresser. Her legs felt like jelly, and she had to stop often. Crawling up his body, she unlocked the handcuffs, sitting on his lap and kissing his reddened wrists. She felt bad for being the cause of the bruises that would inevitably blossom under his skin. His hand curling around her cheek had her looking up into a warm, albeit dazed, pair of eyes. He was still leaning heavily against the headboard, his neck and collarbone marked up and lipstick smeared all over his skin (mostly around his mouth).

 

“Stop that.”

 

“What?” he flashed her his signature goofy smile.

 

She made an impatient noise and curled up against his chest, trailing kisses all over the available skin. “Stop being so beautiful.”

 

“Guys aren’t beautiful, Bones,” he purred into her hair, his arm coming up to curl around her waist.

 

“You are.” She traced a finger over the scar on his shoulder from the bullet he took for her. “It hurts me.”

 

Booth pushed Brennan, rolling them both over so he could hover over her. He seemed to search her face for something before settling his head against her shoulder and nuzzling into her neck with a sigh. “Love you too, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I was feeling sentimental


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post what ever the episode was when Booth got shot by that crazy stalker lady lmao
> 
> AU, obvs~

Booth straightened his tie for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He glanced out the window of his cab, seeing that he was almost at the Jeffersonian, and felt his stomach twist into a tighter knot. He had no idea how this would play out, but if what Sweets said was anything to go by, he’d be lucky to walk out of this alive.

 

_“Tell me… once again… why you didn’t tell her,” he hissed out through his teeth, gripping the edge of his kitchen counter, imagining it the psychologist’s neck between his fingers. If Sweets noticed the agent’s hands, he gave no indication._

_With a soft sigh, he sat back in his seat. “Doctor Brennan has an incredible ability, Agent Booth. She can compartmentalize like no other person I’ve ever seen. I was sure that she could survive your death long enough to catch your man.” Booth nodded once, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head drop forward. “You’ll be able to reveal yourself soon enough.”_

_The softer tone in Sweets’ voice that hinted at something more had Booth snapping his head up and snarling, “_ Don’t.”

_The younger man just shrugged and rolled his eyes in exasperation._

Standing just outside the sliding doors of the lab, he allowed himself a moment to take a deep breath before stepping in.

 

No one noticed him at first. Scanning the room, he could see that Hodgins was at his desk next to the platform, Cam leaning over next to him. It was easy enough to spot the one person he wanted to see. She was facing away from him, examining bones on the platform, and calling out orders to scrambling squinterns. His lips curved up into a smile, and he was about to step forward when a very loud noise stopped him in his tracks. Cursing himself for forgetting something so obvious, he turned very slowly, looking directly into the livid face of one Angela Montenegró.

 

“Tell me you weren’t that _stupid._ ” Her voice dripped with venom. She was winding up for a full Angela Rant, but she was cut short by the sound of something crashing to the floor. Both hands whipping around to stare at Dr. Temperance Brennan, who was standing there with a face white as a sheet and a tray of bones at her feet. The whole lab held its breath, not daring to move, even as she unfroze and picked up the tray and bones back up, turning on her heel and retreating to her office.

 

“Bo-” Another loud noise cut through the tension filled air as Angela’s hand collided with Booth’s exposed cheek. He barely reacted, just standing as frozen as his partner was, staring at the ground, as Angela stormed away. “ _Fuck,_ ” he breathed, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek. He flinched away when he felt around clamp around his middle, opening his eyes to see the dark hair of Cam as she hugged him tight enough to hurt his ribs.   


“You fucking _asshole_ ,” she sobbed into his shoulder, and he chuckled, settling his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her a bit before releasing her. “How could you do this to us?”

 

He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Cam… I had orders.”

 

She wiped under her eyes, smearing her mascara a bit, and glared. “And what about your partner? You didn’t think to maybe include her in your plans?”

 

“Yeah…” He could feel a headache coming on, and wanted nothing more than to go take a nap. It hadn’t been all that long since he was discharged, and he was still getting the fun effects of his painkillers. They made functioning like a normal human being very difficult. “I need to talk to her.”

 

Cam shook her head and sighed, still sniffling but recovering, “It’s not going to be easy. She was… well, I guess she’ll tell you if she tells you.”

 

From her tone, Booth could just imagine how it had been. Not for the first time, he found himself imagining Sweets’ death by his hand. “I need to see her.”

 

Cam sent him on his way with a pat on the shoulder, not wanting to follow and witness an actual murder in her lab.

 

She was leaning over her desk, staring blankly at the bones in front of her, holding what looked like a knee cap in her hands. He knocked softly, seeing her tense but refuse to look up. Pressing his lips together, he pushed the door open, closing it behind him. “Bones.”

 

The way she flinched when he said her name sent daggers through his heart. He’d done this. Part of it was Sweets, but Booth had still gone along with the kid’s plan.

 

He fucking hated hurting her.

 

“Bones,” he repeated, moving slowly towards her desk and sinking down into one of the chairs opposite her. She still didn’t look up, only examined the bone in her hands and jotted notes down. It wasn’t until then that he saw her hands shaking, saw the tears staining the papers she was writing on. “Oh, Temperance…”

 

“Do. Not.” He had been leaning forward, but her tone stopped him. There was a definite tremor in her voice, but it had been years since he’d heard the straight up cold tone she used. Last time he heard it was when they’d parted ways after their first case. The thought of that had ice shooting through his veins.

 

“Bones, please…”

 

“No. You cannot come in here after a month of being dead, of making me believe you were gone, and hope to hug and make up.” Her fists were clenched; bones having been put down.

 

“K-kiss and make up….” Only then did she look up, spearing him to his chair with her glare.

 

_“Doctor Brennan will be upset, livid maybe. But don’t be put off by it. It’s if she isn’t mad that you need to be wary of. Anger means she cares, Agent Booth.”_

_“I wonder if I can survive her caring.”_

She got to her feet and stomped around her desk so that she could loom over him. “If you really think you can kiss me after this, you are very sorely mistaken.”

 

“That’s not—forget it,” he huffed out a harsh breath, frowning up at her, “Look, Bones, I had to stay dead. I caught a guy by doing it…”

 

“And you couldn’t… You couldn’t maybe clue me in on this? Just because you caught a criminal, that makes the month of-of—“ She stopped, clamping her mouth shut, crossing her arms over her chest. The unshed tears in her eyes made her frightening expression heart breaking—no, what was it she’d said?— _heart crushing_.

 

Booth rose from his chair, watching her as she looked away, taking a step back from him. He reached over, slow enough that she could pull away, and pulled her against him. She struggled weakly for a moment, then gave up fooling herself and launched herself at his chest, clinging to him tightly as she shook. He hugged her to his chest just as tightly, burying his face into her neck and breathing her in. He walked them to the couch and fell backwards, pulling her onto his lap and cradling her as she cried. He whispered his apologies into her hair over and over, not stopping until she calmed.

 

When she looked up at him, puffy eyed and red in the face, she glared tiredly and wiped a thumb over his cheek, drying wetness he hadn’t realized was there. “I-I won’t ask you to forgive me. I won’t stop apologizing, but I won’t expect forgiveness from you.”

 

She seemed to take a moment to consider him, when she finally spoke, her voice raw, “Did Angela slap you?”

 

Booth couldn’t help the small laugh that burst out, resting his head on her shoulder and she shifted to straddle and hug him properly. She didn’t say a word when his laugh became a small sob, only held his head to her and ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ll forgive you. Provided you give me something.”

 

“Anything.”

 

“I find that I require this closeness. Once a day at least, please.” He nodded into her shoulder, feeling overfull and not wanting to let go of that feeling. He understood why she wanted that, and he was more than happy to comply.

 

_God damn it, Sweets._

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Used "Ill" as a prompt. This would be set somewhere in the first seasons I guess? Somethin like that lmao

_“I swear, Seeley, if you don’t fix this, I will kill you.”_

Booth rolled his eyes and sighed as he jogged across the street, making his way to the diner. “Take a breath, Cam, I’ve got this. I’m going in now; I’ll call you later.”

 

_“I’m serious. Fix it.”_

Booth ended the call as he stepped into the diner, spotting Brennan at their usual spot. Dropping into the seat across from her, he grinned as he examined her face. “Wow, Bones,” he barely suppressed a laugh, “You look awful.”

 

Brennan glared at him through red eyes, wiping her nose with a tissue. “I don’t know what you mean,” she coughed, and took a sip of her tea. “I’m fine. Did Doctor Soroyan send you?”

 

Booth held up his hands, rearing back as if to physically dodge her germs. “Hey, keep your sick over on that side, huh? I just got over Parker’s last present.” No matter what he did, he never could avoid getting infected with Parker’s colds. As soon as the kid was sick, Booth was inevitably sick a few days later.

 

Brennan coughed, a horrifyingly wet sound, and shifted through the file she had, sniffling loudly and wiping her red nose with another tissue. Booth decided it wise not to comment on the growing pile of Kleenexes next to her. “I am not sick, Booth. This is just a small bug that will be gone tomorrow.”

 

Remembering Cam’s threat, and her earlier pleas for him to get Brennan away from the lab until she wasn’t sick anymore, Booth made sure that he got the sniffling anthropologist into his car after a bowl of veggie soup.

 

“All I’m saying is that it smelled funky.” He pretended not to feel the autumn chill as he got into the car, having given his suit jacket to her after her very loud protests. “No soup should smell like that.”

 

Brennan rolled her eyes and held the jacket tightly around herself despite her earlier complaints, and wiped her nose with tissue yet again. “It’s just vegetable soup. It wouldn’t smell so strange to you if you ate them more often.”

 

Booth snorted. “I’m healthy as a horse, Bones.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

* * *

 

 “Everything about this case is extremely inaccurate.” Booth turned his head to look at Brennan, giving her an obvious eyes roll.

 

“It’s not supposed to be accurate, Bones, it’s just a TV show. It’s entertainment, pure and simple.” Her frown of disapproval told him everything he needed to know before she even opened her mouth to contradict him. It was difficult to take her signature Bones Glare seriously when she was so bundled up in covers. She looked young like this.

 

“My books are all scientifically accurate, and yet the public seem to find them entertaining all the same.”

 

Booth smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, because you happen to know how to write sex really well,” he teased, filing her light blush away for later examination.

 

“Regardless, I can’t appreciate this. Maybe if there was some well written sex in it…” Booth’s smirk shifted into a full-on grin as he leaned over to poke her, and she pushed him away, laughing.

 

“ _Reeeaaally?”_  

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Bones, I’m back. I’ve got more of your nasty vegetable soup!” Booth stepped into her apartment, moving to the kitchen to put the soup on the counter. He started unwrapping the packaged soup to put it in a bowl for Brennan when he heard wretched coughing down the hall. “Bones?”

 

He followed the wet sound to the bathroom. The door was just touching the frame, letting a beam of light out into the hall. Tapping the door a few times, he called out again, “Bones? You okay in there?”

 

“Booth…” God, she sounded absolutely wrecked, “Don-” She was cut off by another round of coughing, splashing and when she moaned softly, he pushed the door to go in.

 

She was sitting on the floor by her toilet, resting her chin on the edge of the porcelain bowl. Her hair was in a messy bun, probably tied up in a hurry, wisps of it that came loose sticking to her forehead and face.

 

“No… get out,” she groaned as he got closer. He gave no response as he flushed the toilet and sat down next to her, rubbing a hand lightly up and down her back. “Booth, please…”

 

“No.” He gave her a crooked smile when she glared weakly at him. “How long you been down here?”

 

“A few minutes before you arrived.” He nodded and sighed, pushing hair from her clammy forehead and resting the back of his hand against her skin, checking her temperature.

He got a towel and wet it with cool water, sliding back down next to her and placing it on the back of her neck. “Running a bit hot, Bones.”

 

He idly wondered when taking care of Brennan like this had become normal to him. 

 

* * *

 

 

“So, I don’t have any gross soup, but I do have Chinese?” Booth grinned widely as Brennan let him into her apartment with and smile and a shake of her head.

 

They spent the night how they did for the past week and a half that she had been sick. She was much better now, only coughing once in a while, and would be going to work the next Monday. They had developed a comfortable routine of eating while going over Booth’s day and case, cleaning up and listening to music, and finally watching a stupid TV show in bed. He insisted on staying over after that night in the bathroom, just in case, and neither had mentioned stopping that part of the routine when she stopped throwing up.

 

“-and I ran after him, right? You won’t believe this, he straight up _launched_ himself up the building and disappeared. I swear, these “parkour” kids are gonna be the end of my career.” He sighed as he washed the plates in the sink, not noticing Brennan’s eyes on him. He went on with his story, only stopping when she spoke up.

 

“Enough.”

 

“Hmm?” He turned to look at her, hand still in the soapy water. He frowned when he noticed her expression. “Bones?”

 

“Dry your hands,” she breathed, stepping closer.

 

“O…kay.” His eyes widened and he dropped the plate he’d been holding back into the sink, and dried his hands quickly on the dishtowel slung over his shoulder, dropping it to the floor afterwards. As she stepped into his space, his hands came up to her hips automatically, and she copied him by bringing hers up to his shoulders, pushing him back. “Um…”

 

“Shut. Up.” Brennan gritted through her teeth, and he swallowed convulsively, letting her walk him backwards into the living room.

 

He stumbled and fell into the couch when it hit the back of his knees. She followed him down, straddling him and pulling herself closer, stomach flush with his chest, his chin practically resting between her breasts as he craned his neck back to look up at her. His eyes still wide as saucers, he swallowed hard again when she lowered herself slowly onto his lap, pressing her ass down against the beginnings of his erection. “ _Ah-“_

“Do you want to stop?” She asked him, but they both knew what his answer was. She took his lack of response as a good sign, and started gyrating her hips, grinding against him, eyes still glued to him. “I had a handle on myself, Booth. I really did. This thing between us since our first case? I had control.”

 

He lowered his chin to hide his face in her neck, panting and feeling a blush creep its way up his neck into his face. She took the opportunity to nibble at his ear, her fingers threaded through his hair. “The playful flirting, the occasional innuendos were fine. Easy to deal with,” she purred into his ear, prompting his fingers to tighten around her waist, “But you just had to go and be _domestic_. Nurse me back to health, hold my hair as I puked, watch TV in bed with me…”

 

Both their breaths were coming out in harsh pants now, Brennan having graduated to just straight up grinding and dry humping his bulge. “Do you know how hard it’s been? Do you even understand the restraint I’ve needed to exert this week? Effort wasted, but… a great amount of effort all the same.”

 

Never in his life had Booth thought Brennan was capable of this. Her well written sex had nothing on this. He thought he was past the age of cuming in his pants like a teen, but here he was, ruining his boxers and most likely staining his work pants by proxy. She pulled back to look at him with her eyes blazing. She pulled one of his hands from her waist and guided it down her pyjama bottoms. He took the hint easily enough, but that didn’t stop the moaned “ _fuck_ ” that tumbled from his lips.

 

It didn’t take much from him to get her crashing against him, just a few strokes. When she came, she pulled his neck hard, crushing their lips together, and chasing his fingers with her hips.

 

“I’d meant to get you to fuck me,” she panted between kisses, and her matter-of-fact tone almost made him laugh, “I suppose there’s always next time.”

 

“Oh, _God_.”

 

* * *

 

 

Bonus:

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. She hummed, brushing her fingers through his hair.

 

“I blame you for this.” He didn’t even bother opening his eyes to glare at her, too exhausted to even move. He felt her lips on his cheek, her laugh against his skin.

 

“As you should, I almost certainly passed the illness onto you.” He reached up to flush the toilet, and closed the lid before lying back on the tile of his bathroom.

 

“I guess this means I’m eating the nasty soup.”


	11. Chapter 11

Days where she would wake him up with light kisses to the corners of his mouth, tasting the skin of his neck, hands blazing lazy trails across his chest. Days where they weren’t fast or desperate. Days where they touched each other for hours, mapping out each other’s planes. Where he would note that skimming his fingertips over her belly made her shiver, but if he got too close to her ribs she would laugh. He would swallow that laugh in a kiss, not because he wants her to stop, but because the sound of her free, throaty laugh just makes him that much happier. Days where he could bundle her close, just to fulfill his need to be near her. He’d merge his body with hers if he could.

 

“Booth,” she spoke in a deep, husky voice as she played with his hair. His head was resting on her stomach, ear pressed to her skin, and he dozed like that, arm slung across her legs. He turned his face to nuzzle into her, knowing exactly what she would say next. “Booth, what are we going to tell the bureau and the Jeffersonian?”

 

He groaned and partially shook his head once. They had been lying in bed, naked, after a celebratory round of sex. Booth hadn’t been able to get her home soon enough after Brennan told him she was pregnant. He was in a bubble of bliss and he was not ready to give that up just yet. Reality could shove it up its—

 

“ _Seeley._ _”_ Booth did not whine. He is  _not_ a man that whines. A hand under his chin forces him to look up at warm blue eyes. Her tone indicated seriousness, but the smile on her lips said otherwise. Between the two, Booth chose his favourite, wiggling up to kiss her protests away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! I'd tell you how it's because of going to two different schools and work, but that's boring. All I gotta say is that I had a mighty need for fluff.


	12. Chapter 12

There was something therapeutic in looking at Booth’s wings. Lying in bed awake, while he slept, Brennan would map out the outline of his form. He likes to sleep on his stomach, sometimes on his side, never on his back. On his stomach, Booth will stretch out, and if Brennan wasn’t in the right spot, she would most likely get pushed off the bed by his large wings. Luckily, she developed a strategy very early on that involved cuddling close enough to be enveloped in a feathered tent. Booth was very sensitive about the wings, especially when it came to people touching them, so Brennan relished these moments to observe them up close.

She never violated his trust while he slept. She would not touch them, apart from the contact that came from having a wing draped over her. Just observing the soft browns, the size of his primaries, the line that connected them to his back. Booth had a very nice back. 

Brennan once pulled herself out from the bed, very carefully, and just sat on the edge to observe. Of course, if she made a sketch and hid it away before Booth woke up, he didn’t have to know. 

“You’re staring.” The words are soft and muffled, almost quiet enough to miss. Brennan bit her lip.

“I am not staring,” she murmured in response, arching her back in a stretch to loosen the muscles that were stiff from sitting for too long. “I was just—“

A wing shifts, and his face comes into view. He’s looking at her with one eye cracked open and a smile barely playing at the edges of his lips. Her words die on her tongue when she’s struck with that damn sense of fullness. Instead, she lets out a breathless laugh, internally chiding her heart for its increased rate. “’mere.”

Brennan is able to resist just about anything if she has reason to, but never has she found the will to resist his eyes and his childish “grabby hands”. As immature as it was… it was very effective. 

Sliding back into his arms, she threads her fingers into his hair when he snuggles his face into her neck. She thinks of the first time she saw Booth’s wings, how stunned and conflicted she was.

She knew that Agent Booth had wings, it was evident from their first meeting when he came to see her while she lectured. From that first meeting, she knew that he was a good man. That was what they said about those who had wings, after all. Pure of heart and all that. But she didn’t count that as the first time she ever really saw the appendages. It was the first time they’d unfurled. It was at the same time she realized he was more than just a good man. She had never noticed before, but he always kept them tucked neatly against his back, tips reaching the lower half of his calves. So, when she finally saw them, really saw them, it took her by surprise.

The car had been quiet since they’d left the scene. Brennan could feel Booth looking at her every so often, but she kept her eyes on the road ahead. As impossible as it seemed, she could practically hear him thinking. “Bones… Look, I’m—I’m sorry. I figured… I just thought, well.”

Brennan finally turned to look at him, and she could admit that she was sad when she saw the nervous fear in his face. “I’m fine, Booth.”

“No, I know that. I know that… It’s just,” he let out a sharp breath through his nostrils, glaring at the road. His hands wrung the steering wheel, to the point she worried he might actually break the thing entirely. “I thought that you knew. I mean, you know about my service and-and my history. I know you’ve guessed about what happened to me when I got captured.”

Yes, she did know. However, nothing could prepare her for the scars that marred his beautiful wings. From her quick glimpse at them in between moments of his fight with their suspect, she had garnered that they had been badly damaged, enough to render flight impossible. The thought of someone wrecking something so beautiful, and the pain Booth must have gone through—must still go through, to this day—it surprised her how much it hurt. “I just… I can’t stand to imagine your pain, Booth.”

She speaks quietly, and she sees his double take from the corner of her eye. 

That night, she asked him if she could examine his wings, and he let her.

He didn’t like showing his wings, and he didn’t like people touching them. It was understandable, considering all they’d been through. He let her do it, thought; he trusted her. She would never forget that day, and she wouldn’t ever let him forget that his trust in her is worth more than anything in her life.

“You’re still staring.”

“I just love you.” Booth opened his eye again, frowning at her. She let him eye her, and didn’t move when he pushed himself up and over, settling on top of her. Brushing his knuckles over her cheekbone, he lifted her chin with two fingers. “What’s up?”

His voice was still gruff with sleep, and his eyes weren’t fully open, but he was on alert now. There was no stopping him. She released a slow sigh, smiling softly up at him. “Nothing. Can’t I tell you that I love you?”

He kept watching her face with a suspicious expression, not reacting when she ran her hands up his chest to hook around his neck. “Yeah?” He drew out the syllable, still waiting for some other shoe to drop. He kissed her back when she leaned up to meet his lips. “So, you’re fine. There’s nothing wrong?”

She just chuckled and shook her head. He puffed out a breath and groaned, flopping down on her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Brennan laughed, hugging her to him, despite how heavy he was. “You’re beautiful, Booth. That’s all.”

“Bones.” She felt more than heard his exasperated moan. “Guys aren’t beautiful. We’re rugged.” Glancing down his back at his wings that were relaxed and outstretched on either side of them, she disagreed. Tracing a scar at the base of his right wing lightly with one finger, she felt him shudder against her. She knew not to go farther, now wasn’t the time to push, so she traced idle patterns into his shoulders, only occasionally brushing against the same scar. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was still rough in her ear, but it had husky tone to it, sending heat straight down to her stomach. Her lips curled into a smirk, continuing her ministrations on his back and counting his shuddering breath on her skin a victory. 

“Should I stop?”

Brennan took the tightening of his arms around her as his answer, and she turned her head to press a kiss into his neck, lightly scratching her nails down his back between his wings.


End file.
